


And We Rise

by AceQueenKing



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Gen, Homelands, POV First Person, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9600878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: She came to me, and I choose her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eida/gifts).



She came to me.

Of course, that in itself is not unique. Lots of summoners come; I am the fayth of Besaid, and I am a highly sought after commodity. I am known to be good to beginners, and take pity on them: I was once like them, in the time before. I sing my song to those who hear, and to some I grant a lesser shade of my power—a Ptera, a Wing. These shades are a gift I can give, but they are copies of an original; they can parrot my tongue, but never my faith, and for that, they are lesser. Some fayths long to shed their cages, I am told, but I—I am content to remain in my home, where I can still hear the sand and almost, _almost_ feel the sun.

She came to me. She was a child of Besaid; her heart beat echoed my own, the long and steady beat of the tides rising and falling along the beachfront. I am no longer human enough to communicate in anything but song, but I have gained the power to look within my disciples' hearts. My mortal coil is long since shed, but I listen, and I remember, briefly, what is is to be human: to hope, to pray.

She prayed to me, and prayed true.

"Please," she thought, "let me take this pilgrimage. Let me protect Besaid."

It was Besaid that made me turn my gaze to her, to see her as she was. I saw in her the sun and sand; I saw in her eyes the green of the flowers of my youth, the blue of the oceans. I saw her and I knew her for what she was: a savior. A revolutionary. I could see the future, far-flung, and I ran to meet it, even knowing my end, even knowing my last words were to be _this wasn't your fault; think of me in the sun and sand and be happy. Now let us finish this._. I foresaw her aborted marriage to the Guado, and me rising to her rescue. I saw her embrace a dream that was not my own, and I saw that she was strong and brave and would keep Besaid safe, and that, in the end, is what moved me to bend my knee. My choice; she hoped for my shadow but I chose _her_.

“Come forward,” I whispered, with the only voice I could muster. I no longer have vocal cords, but I can dream to mortals. She obeyed, skirting forward, her eyes cast down.

“I will share with you,” I say, and I dive into her, feel her dreams. She dreams of Besaid, of sun and sand; of my home, and her home both. I dream with her, and we stand together, locked in thought and prayer. In her dreams, I grow powerful, grow wings; I whip through the winds, her traveling upon my back, and when I open my eyes we are standing, together but apart: I, the bird of dreams, she the dreamer.

For the first time in so many years, I leave my temple. I feel the sun as it hits my face, the brightness of the sun above.

And I rise—for her, with her. And we rise, and we  _rise._

For Besaid, we are one.


End file.
